


i run my hands through what's left

by lostin_space



Series: Roswell New Mexico Week 2019 [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Violence, Roswell New Mexico Week 2019, mentions of Michael/Maria, mentions of malex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostin_space/pseuds/lostin_space
Summary: isobel consoles michael after he does something bad----day 2 of rnmweek: family





	i run my hands through what's left

**Author's Note:**

> I had a very solid idea for how I wanted the beginning and then had no idea how to end it so here we are

Isobel felt him before he appeared.

She had always had a stronger connection with her brothers than they had for each other. She wasn't sure if it was due to her being an actual psychic or they were just born being macho assholes, but it was how it'd always been. They were parts of her soul. She hurt when they hurt, she ached when they were gone. She still remembered crying herself to sleep every night as a little girl, wondering where Michael was and why they took him away from her.

When Max died, a piece of her went with him. It made her that much more concerned about Micahel, and, as they strengthened their powers in an attempt to help Max, their bond got stronger. 

His unintentional distress call woke her up before he had the chance to.

Michael appeared in her doorway a broken shell of his usual self. Tears tracks were staining his cheeks, his eyes glassy and unfocused. He was visibly shaking and Isobel could smell the alcohol on him even with the space between them.

"Izzy," Michael whispered, his voice nothing more than a whimper, "I did something bad."

Isobel lifted the corner of her blanket.

Michael crossed the room quickly, curling up against her. Isobel wrapped him up in her arms, cradling his head against her chest. She let her eyes close as she ran her fingers through his hair and ignored the fact his tears were getting all over her shirt.

"What did you do, Michael?"

He sniffled hard, trying to cuddle up closer as if it would give him extra comfort. They both knew it wouldn't.

"I-I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't mean to. She, she, she kept asking me about Max and my hand and, and, and _us_ and‒" A sob cracked through him, his body shaking down to his fingertips. "I didn't mean to, Izzy, I didn't mean to. You know I didn't mean to, right?"

Isobel stared at the wall in front of her, cupping the back of his head and cradling him close. She wanted to throw him in the shower, to clean him up and yell at him to get sober. But that would get them nowhere. He wasn't getting sober for Max, he wouldn't get sober for anything.

She just had to handle it.

"Michael, is she alright?" Isobel asked as calmly as she could manage. Michael didn't lose control often, but, when did, it was dangerous. Maria was only human, she could only take so much.

"I didn't mean to, Iz, I didn't! I didn't! Izzy, _I didn't mean to_ ," he cried. The fear that he had done something she couldn't fix slowly began making its way through her system, clawing at her gut in warning. _He's a loose cannon_ , it threatened, _dangerous_.

He's Michael.

"Michael," Isobel said, her voice slow and as she gripped him so tight that he gasped, "Is she okay?"

Michael whimpered, "Sh-sh-she said she was. She told me not to go, but… but I couldn't stay. I hurt her. I hurt her." Isobel let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding, loosening her grip on him and stroking his hair once again.

"What did you do?" she whispered.

Maria had done good by him, regularly putting up with his bullshit. There were multiple nights a week she would have to call someone to help drag him up the stairs or, on particularly frustrating nights, to get him home. He continuously would get so fucked up he couldn't speak or walk and nothing would sway him to slow down. In fact, if someone tried to get him to slow down, he'd get pissed. He'd lose control.

Part of Isobel was surprised it took him this long to take it out on her.

"She wouldn't stop, Izzy, she wouldn't stop and I know I should've stopped, I know I should stop, you know? You know I should stop, I've tried to stop, I-I-I-" Isobel shushed him, rubbing circles into his back. She felt him take a heavy breath and choke on it before trying again. "I threw her against the wall‒not my hands, my head. My head did it, I didn't mean to. She-she said it was okay, she was, she was close to it and stuff so, so, so it wasn't _that_ bad. But, Izzy, Izzy, _I hurt her._ I don't want to be like that, I'm not like that, I'm not. I don't wanna be that way. I don't wanna be dangerous." 

Somehow, he cried even harder. 

"You need to get sober, Michael," Isobel whispered softly, closing her eyes as they began to burn. She hated how badly he was hurting, even if he'd done it to himself. "Everything is going to get worse if you keep this up."

"I know! You don't think I know?! I fucking _know_!" Michael snapped without bothering to even move from her arms. She tried not to take it to heart.

"Okay."

Michael gripped her harder, "Do you still love me?"

"You know I do."

Isobel loved Michael. She couldn't say she particularly liked him right now, though. She understood he'd been through shit‒but so had she. He left her to be the strong one even when part of her was missing, dead in some pod and leaving her longing. She'd spend all day with Liz, trying her damnedest to figure out how to get Max back, and then she'd spend her nights dealing with Michael who couldn't stay sober. He was a fucking mess and he knew it. He was adding to everyone's stress and he knew it. He'd said many times in fits of tears that he wanted to stop, but every moment they attempted was shattered when he hated being in his own mind even more. She needed help to help him.

Isobel waited until he was unconscious before reaching for her phone, still combing her fingers through his hair as she clicked on the name that had slowly made its way to her favorites.

"Hey, is he with you?" Maria said, picking up after one ring.

"Yeah, are‒"

"Oh, thank god. I told him not to go, that he was too drunk to drive, but you know he doesn't exactly take orders well." Maria sounded so relieved that she once again felt she was too good for her brother. Or at least the person her brother had become.

"Yeah, but are you okay? He said he lost control on you," Isobel said softly, burying her nose in Michael's hair. It was greasy and musty, but it was Michael and she needed him even when he was the worst. Even when he fucked up.

"I'm fine, I know he wasn't in his right mind. I'll bitch at him when he is." If he ever is. 

Isobel reached her finger over to rub her eye as she sighed. She needed to fix this, him. She needed her brother back.

"Can you do me a favor? Can you, like, ban him from your bar for real?" Isobel asked. Maria was silent on the other line for a moment. It was common knowledge among their little group that Michael had a problem, one he'd been nursing and growing for over a decade now. Everyone had made at least one offhand comment about how bad it had gotten since Max. They would help, she knew they would, she just had to be the driving force.

She was just so fucking tired.

"You wanna get him sober?" Maria asked slowly, a hopeful little lilt in her tone.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," Isobel admitted. She didn't have to see Maria to know she was nodding, agreeing.

"Then… you should probably call Alex." Isobel's eyebrows pulled together slowly. "As much as I hate to admit it, I'm pretty sure he's the only one that'll be able to convince him to try to get better. And it's Alex so he'll help. Plus, I have it on good authority that he won't lose control on him." God, why did both of her brothers have to be so hopelessly in love? She was getting pretty sick of it. Even if it did give her some hope in this particular situation.

"Okay, I'll give him a call. Thank you," Isobel said, Maria humming in response, "And I'm still sorry he hurt you."

"I'll survive. But he might be single now."

They ended the call with the promise of meeting up in the morning and Isobel immediately moved to call Alex. She knew it'd make Michael angry considering he'd drunkenly cried about Alex more than once in the last few months. But she was running out of options. At the rate he was going, she was going to lose both of her brothers for good.

She didn't think she could survive that.

"Isobel? Is everything alright?" Alex didn't sound even a little tired. It made her feel a bit better that she hadn't woken him up.

"Uh, not really," Isobel said softly, gazing down at her brother. He looked a little too close to dead. "I… I know you probably don't want to help, but I don't know what else to do and Maria said you'd probably be my best bet."

Alex sighed, "What's wrong with him?" Isobel huffed a laugh.

"You'll help?" she asked. Alex was quiet for a moment. Isobel didn't know too much about the two of them, but she knew that Michael loved him and she knew that he loved Michael. Michael needed a whole lot of love if anything was going to help. She, Alex, and Maria were the three that had most likely been in this position: cradling him to sleep after he'd had one too many and done something he shouldn't have.

She couldn't put a ballpark number on how many times Alex had done so, or what other things he'd witnessed in her brother that she hadn't. She didn't know how he treated Michael in times of crisis and she definitely didn't know how Michael reacted to that treatment. But, when he sighed heavily over the phone, she knew Maria was absolutely correct.

"Of course. He's family."


End file.
